“What’s deep throat?”
“I’ll rent the movie someday.” She looked mystified at that. Porn was not something on the curriculum back at UCA.
“So what’s next?” she asked.
“Now we get to the lab work.” Marilyn’s eyes opened wide at that. I moved my cock around so that the head was near her lips. “Open wide and say ‘Ahhh!’ This won’t hurt you a bit!”
She smiled and said, “You are really pushing your luck, Mister Instructor.” Still, she did what I asked, and opened her mouth. I pushed the end of my cock inside, only about an inch or so, and she reflexively closed her lips around me.
Ohh, that felt so good, so warm and wet. “Oh, yeah, just like that.” She suckled on the tip for another minute and then looked up at my eyes. “Yeah, just suck that and don’t stop. Now, jack me off at the same time.” I took one of her hands and put it on my cock, and she instinctively began pumping me. Now it was really feeling good! “Oh, that’s good, don’t stop, don’t stop.”
Marilyn was starting to get into a rhythm and was beginning a very pleasant suction on my cock. “Baby, just keep doing that, just like that… don’t stop, keep going… don’t change what you’re doing, it feels good… keep going, don’t stop…” Historically, Marilyn had a tendency to keep trying to shift around or change technique and it was very distracting. Now I wanted to teach her correctly right from the start. “Just like that, don’t stop… can you taste me?… don’t stop, don’t stop… that’s my pre-come… keep going, just like that… that means I’m getting close, oh God, it’s so good… don’t stop… when I come, keep sucking and pumping me, don’t be surprised… oh, so good…” Marilyn was a very apt pupil. She stayed in position with about an inch or two of my cock in her mouth, suctioning away, as she pumped my shaft.
“That’s it, don’t stop, don’t stop…” I felt it racing up my shaft and suddenly spurt into her mouth. She backed off, and the second spurt hit her on the chin, but then she moved back and sucked me some more while she finished milking me dry. I just gasped and sagged back against the pillows with a dopey grin on my face.
Marilyn looked up at me with some come on her lips and chin. “I guess I did okay?”
“Baby, that was great.”
She swallowed and grimaced. “It’s not exactly champagne.” She wiped off her face with her hand, and then stared at what was now on her hand. “It’s actually kind of yucky.”
I had no reply other than a shrug of my shoulders. “It is what it is. I’m told it gets better with practice, so I promise to keep licking your pussy if you keep sucking my cock.”
“I think I need to clean up.”
I followed Marilyn to the bathroom, where she washed her face and drank some water. I leaned against the door frame. “On the plus side, nobody has ever gotten pregnant from a blowjob. I am guessing that your Mom is not sucking your Dad’s cock, not if you’ve got nine brothers and sisters.”
“Gross! I don’t even want to think about that!”
I laughed and crept up behind her and rubbed a finger down between her buttcheeks. “Remember that section in the book about this? Can’t get pregnant that way either!”
“Gross, gross, gross!”
I laughed some more and went back to bed. I lay down and fell asleep.
I woke up with Marilyn wrapped up in her robe and snuggled up against me, snoring. If there is one bad thing about her, it’s that she snores. Loud! The kids used to joke about it even. I can remember one night when she went to bed early, and started snoring so bad my children asked, incredulously, “You sleep with that?!” It never really bothered me. If she snored too loud, I’d elbow her in the back and she’d roll over and I could fall asleep before she started snoring again.
I pinched her nostrils together gently and after a moment she roused herself and started swatting at me blindly. She looked at me angrily and I said, “You were snoring.”
“I wasn’t!”
I nodded. “Yes, you were.”
“I don’t snore!” I just laughed at that. “Well, you snore, too!”
“No, I don’t. I stayed up one night and proved it.”
“Ha, ha, ha, Mister Smarty Pants!”
“You’d prefer I was a Dummy Pants?” That got her to stick her tongue out at me, which just made me laugh even more. “Get up and get dressed. Let’s get something to eat.”
“How formal are we going to be?” Marilyn swung her feet to the floor and stood up. She looked so young and innocent standing there, barefoot in that oversized bathrobe.
“Let’s just go down the Boardwalk and get some pizza and a beer. Maybe tonight we can go out.”
Marilyn simply smiled and nodded, and ten minutes later we were heading back down the Boardwalk in short, tee shirts, and sneakers. Although it was about six and the crowds were all thinning out, there were still a number of places open, and we stopped at the first one where we could get a few slices and a beer. I loaded mine up with red pepper and we sat down to look out at the beach. “So, what did you have in mind for tonight?” asked Marilyn.
“You know, I have no idea. I mean, it’s Friday night, there must be something to do around here. Right?”
“Don’t ask me. You’re the guy who’s been here before.”
I gave her a sheepish shrug to my shoulders. “Yeah, but not like this. I think the last time I came to the beach I was fifteen, and no way were my parents letting me out on my own.” I looked around the pizza place and got an idea. “When venturing into a new and unknown territory, it is best to ask members of the indigenous population for assistance.”
“What are you talking about?”
“Let’s ask the natives!” I turned around and waved to a couple of waitresses hanging around the counter. They saw me and looked at me curiously, so I gestured for them to come over. They were a couple of pretty and well tanned sun bleached blondes about our age. Once they came over, I asked them, “So, is there any action in this town on a Friday night?”
“Sure. What did you have in mind?” asked our waitress, a girl slightly shorter and blonder than the other girl.
“Oh, almost anything, I suppose. Any good bars or dance clubs around?”
The two girls both started talking at once, and we got names and directions for several places back off the beach. We thanked them and talked it over. Afterwards, we walked for a while and then went back to the Hilton, and I cornered a couple of the desk clerks and asked them the same question. A couple of the names they gave coincided with the ones we got from before, so that was where we would head.
“What should we wear?” asked Marilyn. She was pretty much a small town girl and out of her element, and Utica is not what one would call a hub of excitement. I wasn’t sure if she had ever actually been to a bar or night club.
“It’s pretty casual around here,” commented one of the clerks.
“Yeah, it’s not like Manhattan,” said the other, in a definite Brooklyn accent.
“I’m guessing clean khakis and a sport shirt for me?” The two girls nodded, and I continued, “And maybe a miniskirt and top and heels for her?”
Marilyn’s eyes widened at the thought, but the two clerks just grinned. They leaned over the counter and looked at her, and one girl, a short brunette, said, “Oh, definitely!”
“Absolutely!” agreed the second, a tall and skinny redhead. “God, I wish I had your figure! If you’ve got it, flaunt it!”
I laughed and pulled a shell shocked Marilyn over to the elevators. “I keep telling you, you’re gorgeous. Now you’ve had independent confirmation!”
Marilyn blushed. “So what do you want me to wear?” she asked when we got to the suite.
I wrapped my arms around her from behind. “I want you to wear your shortest little skirt, your tightest little top, and your highest heels.”, I whispered to her. “You are going to look so good, nobody will notice if I show up looking like a homeless derelict!”